> The other night I was invited out for a night with the 'girls.' I told
> my husband that I would be home by midnight, 'I promise!' Well, the
> hours passed and the margaritas went down way too easily.
> Around 3 a.m., a bit loaded, I headed for home. Just as I got in the
> door, the cuckoo clock in the hallway started up and cuckooed three
> times. Quickly, realizing my husband would probably wake up, I cuckooed
> another nine times. I was really proud of myself for coming up with
> a quick-witted solution, in order to escape a possible conflict with
> him. (Even when totally smashed... three cuckoos plus nine cuckoos
> totals 12 cuckoos--MIDNIGHT!)
> The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, I told him
> 'MIDNIGHT.' He didn't seem pissed off in the least. Whew, I got away
> with that one! Then he said 'We need a new cuckoo clock.'
> When I asked him why, he said, 'Well, last night our clock cuckooed
> three times, then said, 'oh, sh:t.' Cuckooed four more times, cleared
> its throat, cuckooed another three times, giggled, cuckooed twice more,
> and then tripped over the coffee table and farted.
on Mar. 14, 2008 at 11:11 AM